there goes my bag

I am one of those motorcyclists which you might or might not categorize as skema (skema people follow the rules. Which is almost unheard of for drivers in this country. Especially motorcyclists). I signalled when turning, I cilok, yes, but in a berhemah manner (really? But read on, please ;p), in the sense that I don't damage people's (cars') side mirrors, I stayed left on the road (the unofficial motorcyclists' lane), heck, when not in one of those I'm-in-a-hurry,-dammit! moments, I even stop at zebra crossings (sometimes I stop at zebra crossings even in one of those I'm-in-a-hurry,-dammit! moments. That's the extent of my skemaness. Sometimes).

Last Friday, I was on the receiving end of a hit and run accident. I suspected that the culprit, in a light green-ish brown-ish Wira, was using his handphone or something the moment the accident happened, as he did not notice me on the (left) side of his car (Liza even suggested it might not be hit and run. It might be just, well, an unintentional thing that went unnoticed. But read on). Basically, this is how it happened: motorcyclist on the leftmost of flyover, car on right side of motorcycle immediately swerved to the leftmost of the road when the both of them exited the flyover. Signal? na-ah. At that very moment, my bike was roughly side-to-side with the rear passenger door of the Wira so I can't really see his registration number. Deng.

Interestingly, the moment I fell and was about to 'hit the road', literally, I was actually thinking of my Burberry bag ('material -ehem- guy' playing in the background), among other things HAHA. Sayang woo beg niii...

Anyhow, I fell with my bike in front of me on the road so I was facing traffic and at the same time 'shielding' my bike (from the oncoming traffic. I did not choose to shield it, though. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, just in case anyone's wondering). The moment I lifted my head up a Kelisa was roughly 6-7 metres away. Thankfully I was conscious I managed to get up and lift both my hands in a 'stop!' gesture. And thankfully, thankfully the Kelisa wasn't really speeding. It must suck to get hit by a car twice in one night.

The bike momentarily lost its light. I did some ad-hoc repairing and continued my journey to my sister's. Lots of rattling sounds came from the bike but I got to my sister's neverthless. I found then that parts of my beard was red and my lips were somewhat like Angelina Jolie's. No shaving for this man for a week or two then.

Saturday I felt like a really old man, my being kengkang and whatnot. My left wrist was almost limp. And I got lots of red and blue spots, including the swollen ring and baby fingers of my right hand (code blue). No broken bones, though. Alhamdulillah.

People, drive safe. And to those skema drivers, it's OK to be so. Stay being skema. The world can be a better place to live in (drive on). Trust me. Scout's honor with the hand thingy (you know, the three-fingers stuff. Or whatever). With one swollen finger (eh, right hand or left hand eh? Aku dulu PKBM, bukan pengakap). Enlighten me, o followers of Lord Baden Powell!!